


Facades and Fabric

by CruelBeauty



Series: Tailored Temptations [3]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Actor!Crowley, Alternate Universe, Costume Design!Aziraphale, M/M, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelBeauty/pseuds/CruelBeauty
Summary: “Angel, you know I joke. But I love your tartan. This is all wrong.” He says surprisingly softly. He looks over Aziraphale and it just looks- wrong. He is wearing black dress pants instead of the usual khakis, and has a dark blue button down with a black tie. It isn’t that Aziraphale objectively looks bad. But Crowley knows Aziraphale would never choose it for himself. “You normally look so.. you and this is so not you.”Aziraphale blushes lightly. “Oh- uh thank you I guess. You really don’t think the tartan is bad?”“No! I like it, angel. Suits you. Not to mention tartan can be stylish. Chanel has done tartan lines before.”





	Facades and Fabric

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, if you haven't read previous works in this series, this may make very little sense. So I recommend that. However, if you don't want to I really can't stop you. So enjoy.
> 
> I have it marked explicit because though this doesn't contain smut (sad) previous installments do and so do future.

A few days later Shadwell and Crowley have a secret meeting and develop a plan and a schedule. By secret meeting it meant they simply met at Crowley’s flat and sat with a notepad and tried to focus on a plan instead of just bad mouthing Beelzebub and Gabriel the whole time.

They mostly succeeded. 

They will have one “date” a week at a public location to allow media to get photos. Then twice a week they will be seen leaving or entering the theatre together. Then they agreed to do two interviews together as a couple every month or so.

They both know there will surely be other annoying little things they have to do along the way but they don’t want to add more things then strictly necessary just yet. They need to maintain some level of control on the whole issue.

The piercing shriek of Crowely’s alarm wakes him up, his hand instinctively reaching out to turn it off. He turns and is sad to find his bed empty. After Aziraphale’s last overnight stay he seems weary to come back over so soon. Crowley knows deep down he is probably just being rightly cautious. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

They have firmly returned to the realm of friends and nothing more. Or friends who know they want to be together but realize there are a lot of complications involved. Friends that have both made love and fucked. Friends who if Crowley and Aziraphale are willing to admit it, love each other.

However, that isn’t relevant at the moment. They have gotten back to their typical routine of sharing stories and sharing silence when they are both tired in Aziraphale’s small office. They share soft smiles and bump hands more often than necessary. They purposefully keep more distance when they see Gabriel nearing. They have developed a careful dance around each other. It’s best to keep Gabriel as little involved as possible.

He pulls his phone towards him and groans at the reminder that pops up on the screen. It is one of those days.

Crowley gets ready quickly sending a textwell to Shadwell making sure he remembered. Just before he leaves his flat, annoyingly coffeeless, he gets a text from Shadwell confirming he is ready so he drives to Shadwell’s place.

He pulls around back to the private entrance to Shadwell’s residence, making sure there are no press that snuck their way back there and rings the doorbell, Shadwell opening almost immediately. 

“Morning, Crowley.” He says, and he looks how he feels.

“Morning.” Crowley calls back.

They drive silently to the theatre, Crowley being sure to park in sight of the press stationed outside of the theatre. As planned. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Sir.” Shadwell remarks truly as though they are heading into battle.

He parks the car and goes around to open Shadwell’s door for him, making the media go wild. He ignores the wild screams of the press and helps Shadwell out of the car with a hand. This seems to make the media quiet just a little for a moment.

Shadwell gives Crowley a loving smile as he takes his hand and is sure to give him a soft kiss in front of the media. That fires them up again.

It is way too early for so many cameras and so much screaming.

Aziraphale sits inside the theatre talking to the head of hair and makeup, Anathema, when he hears wild screams outside and knows Shadwell and Crowley have arrived. The screaming seems to go almost less loud for a moment before blowing up. “They must have kissed.” Anathema remarks with a wince at the screaming that gets through the theatre walls.

Aziraphale ignores the small flame of jealousy burning and hums in agreement. Best not to think about it he thinks.

Typically, Aziraphale, Anathema, and Newton get together every week or so to discuss their progress and if any of the other areas of design need to be altered. They have to work closely together in order to get the show looking its best.

Last week Aziraphale had to inform poor Newt that the lights he used were entirely the wrong color for one scene and messed up the look of his costume. When Newt went to fix it several lights blew up. It was a dreadful event.

Anathema handles all of the hair and makeup for the show as well as the wigs. Aziraphale has grown rather fond of her. Though Crowley might not admit it he thinks Crowley likes her as well. 

Her and Newt are often seen around each other. Often they seem like an odd match but they get along well enough. The three of them have created a system that works for him. They all respect and work with each other.

The theatre doors fly open and in walks a disgruntled looking Crowley and a certainly less than thrilled Shadwell at his heels. It seems like Crowley is off to a great start for his morning. Aziraphale frowns in pity for Crowley.

Crowley’s frown disappears just a little when he sees Aziraphale and Anathema and gives a wave.

Gabriel power walks in after them. Which in Aziraphale’s humble opinion always means trouble. “Anathema.” He calls which eventually makes Anathema suppress a small sigh and turn towards him.

“Yes?”

“Stop making small talk with Aziraphale and get Shadwell and Crowley fitted for their wigs.” Gabriel says firmly and Anathema nods before leaving the theatre. 

Aziraphale doesn’t miss the small eye roll she gives him and prays Gabriel did though.

Crowley and Shadwell pass Aziraphale, them both smiling softly at him before exiting, trailing after Anathema.

Aziraphale goes to leave when he hears Gabriel’s voice. “Aziraphale, just a moment.”

Aziraphale cringes but doesn’t move. The sound of Gabriel’s footsteps echo in the theatre as he steps up to Aziraphale. “I assume you heard the news of Shadwell and Crowley.”

Aziraphale swallows. “Um yes, I did.” He thinks everyone in the world has heard the news of Shadwell and Crowley at this point.

He passed at least four separate magazines with captured photos of them together. Some small part of Aziraphale was mildly curious about them and did flip through a couple just to see if there was any validity.

“I just want to be sure this won’t be impacting anything.” Gabriel says in that very serious and cryptic way that makes Aziraphale want to press for more but also leave as soon as possible.

Azirphale rubs his hands over his pants. “Of course not.”

Gabriel gives a tight smile. “Glad to hear it. For whatever reason Crowley has decided he likes you. Don’t think I didn’t hear the way he talked about you in the interview. And I don’t know how often he hangs out in your office. If you in any way jeopardize Shadwell’s and Crolwey’s relationship and impact sales for this production. I will ruin you. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.” Aziraphale says softly. His own voice sounding very small and defeated even to himself. He thought he was being careful with Crowley, but maybe he wasn’t.

Gabriel looks over Aziraphale. “And get some new clothes. You’re a costume designer for god’s sake. Get some style.” He says before leaving.

Aziraphale tries to settle the horribly fast beating of his heart and try to remember how to breathe. Gabriel is right in a way. If news of Crowley’s and his....fraternization were to get out. It would ruin the show, but more importantly it would ruin Crowley. If it were found out Crowley was with some frumpy costume designer it would be a disaster. They would slander him to no end.

Crowley meanwhile has the final touches added to his wig before being released from Anathema while Shadwell gets the final details done.

Of all the people working on the show Anathema is probably Crowley’s favorite, after Aziraphale of course.

She’s a bit weird and Crowley likes that. And if he is being honest he is vaguely interested if the tech director Newton ever asks her out.

Crowley decides to stop by Aziraphale’s office while Shadwell finishes. If he knows Shadwell and he rather thinks he does at this point, Shadwell is going to end up talking to her about being a witch for at least an hour. Shadwell is always paranoid and afraid of witches. And of course Anathema doesn’t dispel this fear in him.

It privately amuses Crowley a lot. He loves when Anathema pushes his buttons.

Crowley strolls to Aziraphale’s office. Ready to tell him about his new wig and walks in.

What he finds makes Crowley nearly scream.

“Aziraphale!” He calls out scandalized standing in Aziraphale’s doorway.

Aziraphale winces and fidgets slightly. “Ah yes, I take it things went well with Anathema?”

“What has happened to your clothes!” Crowley cries dramatically in a sweeping motion.

Aziraphale smooths down the shirt. “Uh well you see, Gabriel said I should be dressing more stylish.”

“Angel, you know I joke. But I love your tartan. This is all wrong.” He says surprisingly softly. He looks over Aziraphale and it just looks- wrong. He is wearing black dress pants instead of the usual khakis, and has a dark blue button down with a black tie. It isn’t that Aziraphale objectively looks bad. But Crowley knows Aziraphale would never choose it for himself. “You normally look so.. you and this is so not you.”

Aziraphale blushes lightly. “Oh- uh thank you I guess. You really don’t think the tartan is bad?”

“No! I like it, angel. Suits you. Not to mention tartan can be stylish. Chanel has done tartan lines before.”

Aziraphale can’t stop the smile that takes over his face. Crowley really is so nice. He somehow just always knows how to comfort him. He always goes out of his way to assure him. “I am not sure I am at the level of Chanel yet. But thank you, Crowley.”

Crowley gasps. “Angel! You finally called me Crowley!” He knows Aziraphale has called him Anthony and Crowley in… other situations. But he has never called him Crowley in a less private manner.

Aziraphale rolls his eyes. “It was only fair. You did tell me you liked my tartan so it’s a fair tradeoff.” 

“What would I have to do to get you to call me Anthony then?” Crowley asks with a raised eyebrow and then wiggles them.

“Oh don’t be so suggestive.” Aziraphale says hitting Crowley’s arm lightly.

“Oh never, angel. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Come sit, dear boy. Get comfortable. I’m going to change back and then I can make you a cup of coffee. I got a brand new blend for you to try. You know I don’t like coffee much though so I haven’t tried it. I am sure if you had to pick up Shadwell you haven’t had any yet? And I know it has been a trying day for you.” Aziraphale explains softly.

Crowley nods slightly as Aziraphale disappears with a stack of clothes. Meanwhile Crowley struggled to keep his feelings in check. 

Aziraphale just somehow always acts and does what he needs without even knowing. Aziraphale remembered how he always has coffee in the morning. He knew Crowley wouldn’t have had any yet and would want it. Aziraphle cared enough to buy him a new special blend.

Crowley went to Aziraphale’s kettle and made himself a cup of the new coffee and a cup of tea for Aziraphale. The coffee did smell rather nice and expensive. The idea of Aziraphale scouring the grocery store for the perfect type of coffee for him is such a sweet image it nearly ends Crowley.

By the time Aziraphale came back in his typical clothing Crowley was comfortable on the couch and had a cup of tea sitting on the table near where Aziraphale typically sits.

“Oh!” Aziraphale says excitedly spotting the tea. “You didn’t have to. I was going to make you and I some when I got finished.”

“I know. You said earlier.” Crowley says simply. If that sentence were to be expanded on it would be something like, ‘I know you said you were going to make me a cup of coffee when you got back but the love I felt for you in that moment was so overwhelming because you knew I had a rough morning and knew I would want coffee that I had to do something to show my affection for you in a safe way that wouldn’t reveal the true depth so yeah he is some tea.’

Aziraphale maybe sensing the true depth of the action had a soft warm look on his face. He lifted the cup gently to his lips and took a sip while looking at Crowley. “Perfect.” He said.

He didn’t bother to clarify whether he was talking about the tea or Crowley. And Crowley didn’t want him to.

They sat in comfortable silence for many minutes, only the sound of tea and coffee being drank and the occasional turned page of a book and script. This is where Crowley thrives. When it is just him and Aziraphale sharing a warm drink and comfortable silence while Crowley reads through the script again.

“It seems weird.”

“Huh?” Crowley asked and set the script down.

“I said it seems weird.”

“What does?” Crowley asked and took a small sip of his coffee.

“Us.”

Crowley snorted. “I mean I agree, that’s terribly vague, but I agree.”

Aziraphale huffed. “I just mean- us. Friends, like this. It seems like I have known you for much longer than just a couple months.”

“Has it really only been that long?” He asked surprised.

Aziraphale hums.

Crowley crosses his legs and considers for a moment. “Well hopefully we will be working on the same project again in the future.”

Aziraphale nods and tries not to think too much about the alternative. How he may never see Crowley again. How truly rare it is for a costume designer and the same actor to work on more than one or two pieces together in an actor’s entire career. How if they don’t actively choose to stay in contact they may never see each other again.

A weird tension seems to settle in the room. Both men thinking more about the future than either would like to.

A knock on the door interrupts them and they both look to see Beezlebub there.

Crowley startles and stands up. “What are you doing here?” He very nearly hisses, surprising Aziraphale. He has never heard Crowley talk like that before in his life. Crowley is always so soft and quiet with him. To be faced with what most people probably refer to as his ‘demon’ or not as nice attitude is rather strange.

Beezlebub seems entirely unfazed by Crowley’s reaction and uncaring of the slightly shocked look on Aziraphale’s face. 

“I was able to get Vogue last minute. They want a couple’s shoot with you and Shadwell. It starts in three hours. I already talked to Gabriel and he is willing to push back today’s practice for a small… incentive. Said this was more important.”

Crowley stalks forward and presses a firm finger at Beelzebub. “Listen here, you cannot just change my schedule like this without notice.”

She sneers and rolls her eyes. “You’ll get over it.”

“I am not a bloody show pony! You will not continue to act like this or I swear I will ruin you.” Crowley snarls in her face, Azirapahale’s eyes widening as he watches the scene unfold.

She gives a short harsh laugh. “Mhm, right. I will send the car in a couple hours.” She reaches a hand forward and lightly slaps Crowley’s face in a condescending way. “Better get real comfortable with Shadwell because it is going to be a good shoot. Lots of kisses involved as a personal suggestion from me.”

Crowley clenches his fists but doesn’t say anything else as she leaves.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale questions hesitantly.

Crowley whipped his head around and almost seemed surprised to see Aziraphale there. “Uh, I am sorry you had to see that.” 

Aziraphale gets up and softly pads to his door and closes it, Crowley watching with interest. 

He normally doesn’t start closing his door until much later when it is dark.

“Dear boy.” Aziraphale says gently and moves to stand in front of Crowley, taking a hand in his to gently stroke it with his thumb. “I am so very sorry. She treats you so horribly.”

Some of the tension seems to drain from Crowley and his shoulders drop a little which Aziraphale counts as a success. “Angel.”

“I know.” Aziraphale says and softly places a hand on Crowley’s cheek. “You can get through this.”

At that Crowley sighs. “Will I? I am so tired, Aziraphale. Tired of getting bossed around. Treated like an object. There is a lack of respect in general but she’s the worst. And I can’t get rid of her.”

Aziraphale hums in understanding and lets his hand wind into Crowley’s hair to gently play with the short strands. Totally friendly. Any friend would do this. Crowley does look so defeated after talking to Beelzebub, he has to.

“The only people I feel like see me more than just an object are you and Anathema. I feel like I am constantly surrounded by people but none of them truly see me as me. I am just Anthony J Crowley, demon actor. Way to make money.”

Aziraphale isn’t sure what to say. Until he had met Crowley himself he had rather thought all those things.

“I’m so sick of it all.” Crowley says softly, like the very words hold some power unknown to him.

Aziraphale feels as though he is meant to be fixing this or giving Crowley some important advice but he feels like anything he offered would be cheap and not what he needs in any way. “I know.” Aziraphale settles on saying, hoping it can at least provide a small amount of comfort. 

Aziraphale shuffles forward and gently brings his arms around Crowley. Aziraphale glances at the closed door and then carefully strokes Crowley’s back. Friends can do this. Friends can hug and comfort each other.

Crowley lets out a deep breath and settles further into his arms. Aziraphale is so warm and soft. Crowley adores that about him. He smells like warm tea and books and it makes Crowley feel like he is settling home.

“Thank you.” Crowley whispers gently, the sound so nice against his ear Aziraphale almost melts.

“Crowley. I was thinking, maybe when you are done with your photoshoot maybe we could meet up. Have a chance for you to unwind?”

“That sounds lovely.” Crowley rumbles, neither man backing away from the hug despite the rather long length. “What do you have in mind?”

Aziraphale gives a small wiggle in his arms. “It’s rather a surprise I think.” 

Crowley lets out an annoyed huff but Aziraphale can tell he isn’t truly annoyed. “It better be good then with all this hype.”

“Oh, I think you will like it.” Aziraphale promises.

. . .

“This is what my surprise is!?” Crowley yelped.

Crowley’s hair was still beautifully styled from his photo shoot, his lovely freckles hidden by foundation (a crime in Aziraphale’s mind), and his eyes lined with black and smokey shadow. If he wasn’t standing in Aziraphale’s very small and ugly apartment he would look like a true model. Without a better backdrop he just looks stunning, a small difference really.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “You can be so dramatic sometimes.”

At that Crowley gives a loud laugh which doesn’t fail to make Aziraphale feel a bit warm inside. ”They don’t call me an actor for nothing.” He shrugs off the expensive jacket he is still wearing from the shoot and tosses it onto Aziraphale’s table. Uncaring of the fact it probably costs more than Aziraphale’s whole apartment complex.

Aziraphale adjusts his waistcoat and plays with one of the buttons, it seemed a bit loose. Maybe he needed to resew it. “Do you really not like it?” He asked hesitantly.

Crowley sighed and ran a hand through his hair before gently placing a hand on Aziraphale’s arm. He hates being vulnerable but he hates making Aziraphale self conscious more. “Oh angel, I like it. Love it. I was just teasing you. Just a bit surprised honestly. I like it though. It’s a very you idea.” 

“Are you sure? Maybe it was a dumb idea. We can forget the whole thing.”Aziraphale quickly said.

“No. Absolutely not. I love it. It’s perfect. Actually it is just what I needed.”

Aziraphale blushed softly but was glad it seemed Crowley actually did like it. “Uh well, take a seat, dear boy. I will fetch the things for us. This is about you relaxing after all.”

Crowley decided not to fight him on it and settled into the cream colored sofa, making sure to leave enough room for Aziraphale to settle down next to him. Crowley watches amused as Aziraphale fusses with everything and starts bringing over plate after plate and a mug for Crowley. “I know you have to watch your weight and all but I figured one night wouldn’t ruin you.” Aziraphale explained hesitantly.

“RIght you are. What Beelzebub doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Crowley reassures him. 

He truly does have to watch his weight quite a lot. He once gained a few pounds a year or so back when he didn’t have any productions and it was the center of gossip magazines for weeks. There were photos everywhere with giant yellow circles over his body pointing out all of the areas that had gotten plumper. Articles speculating on his new weight gain.

Ever since he has been sure to keep his diet strict. It was just easier that way. Crowley does actually prefer a bit of extra weight, he likes to think when he retires he can gain several pounds, make his bones a bit less sharp.

“The cakes all coffee, wine, apple, caramel, or dark chocolate themed. I wasn’t sure honestly but those are the only type of things I see you eat or enjoy.” Aziraphale trailed off with. He never saw Crowley eat much. Between his busy schedule and his diet, it seems the man runs on coffee, wine, alcohol and the occasional apple or bit of chocolate.

Crowley couldn’t stop the dumb dopey smile that overtake his face. He couldn’t believe the angel paid that much attention to what he ate or drank. “Why the caramel?”

“Oh uh well you see- um I-”

Crowley smirks as he watches Aziraphale stutter. “Did you read that trashy interview from a few weeks ago where they asked my favorite foods.”

Aziraphale sputters. “Absolutely not!”

Crowley raises one eyebrow.

“I merely skimmed it while waiting in line at the grocery store.” 

“Mhm of course, angel. Makes perfect sense.” Crowley says and leans forward to pick up a little square. “This one?”

“A dark chocolate coffee cake.”

Crowley pops the whole thing in his mouth. “Delicious.” Crowley comments which makes Aziraphale wiggle next to him and smile.

“I got a bit of programming for us to watch while we feast as well.” Aziraphale boasts proudly and struggles for a moment with a remote he acts like he has never used before and starts a movie.

“What are we watching?” Crowley asked settling as far into the sofa as he could, bringing several cakes and various treats with him, hugging the plate stacked with him.

“It’s an old bond film.”

“Bond!?” Crowley nearly screamed making Aziraphale wince with a small smile.

“I heard a rumor you were a Bond fan. I doubted you had any time to fulfill that love recently?” 

“I haven’t watched one in ages.” Crowley thought and became very excited to watch it. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until Aziraphale brought it up.

Aziraphale turned out all of the lights except for one small lamp in the corner. They both got comfortable on the couch and ate small desserts watching the film.

Though Aziraphale didn’t love coffee he found he didn’t mind most of the treats and he adored watching Crowley happily nibbling on them during the film. They took turns turning on the kettle to make tea and cocoa every time their mugs ran out. 

By the time the first Bond movie was over and Crowley was putting in the second Aziraphale was feeling pretty full and very content. At some point Crowley had taken off his waistcoat and boots and just wore his jeans and t-shirt. Aziraphale took off his vest, bowtie, and shoes as well.

Aziraphale draped the blanket that had been on the arm of the couch over the both of them which made Crowley scoot even closer, his thighs pressed up against Aziraphale. 

At some point Aziraphale had moved a bit closer as well and nestled himself against Crowley’s side. And Crowley conveniently at some point moved his arm across Aziraphale’s shoulders so they were just on the brink of cuddling.

As the final credits of the movie played and Aziraphale realized how tired he had gotten he heard Crowley speak. “Thank you. This is just what I needed.”

Aziraphale lifted his head up off of Crowley’s chest (okay so maybe they were cuddling. Friends can cuddle, thank you very much) and laid a soft hand on Crowley’s cheek and pressed their lips together, just once, just a press (friends can kiss? Probably. Yes, friends can kiss). “Of course, dear heart.”

Crowley didn’t push for more and took it for what it was.

Crowley leaned all the way until his back was on the sofa and gently nudged Aziraphale down with him until they were wrapped up in each other. Crowely situated Aziraphale in his arms and gently pulled the blanket over them, making sure to tuck the edges around Aziraphale’s body. As a last step he pressed a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. “Goodnight, angel.”

“Goodnight, Anthony.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't fret, the next installment will be smut-tastic. 
> 
> Thoughts?


End file.
